


Vegetables Will Not Kill Him

by Ignis_Sassentia



Series: FFXV Week 2017 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Tumblr: ffxvweek, Worst cooks in Eos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignis_Sassentia/pseuds/Ignis_Sassentia
Summary: A drabble in which Prompto and Noct attempt to cook for a feverish Ignis. It does not go well.





	Vegetables Will Not Kill Him

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FFXV Week on Tumblr. Prompto: Worst cooks in Eos.

Ignis had to admit that it was sweet of Prompto and Noctis to insist on cooking while he wasn’t feeling well. Sweet, yes, but not entirely practical. 

He stared at the plate of...something Prompto had handed him, attempting to sort out what it might have been in a previous life. Not vegetable-based, certainly--he knew Noct would rather face an entire horde of magitek soldiers on his own than slice a single head of cabbage--but he couldn’t quite make out what sort of meat it was supposed to be. Or why it wobbled so when he shifted. Or why it smelled like burnt rubber. 

Prompto and Noct dropped into their camp chairs with their own plates and Gladio joined them shortly thereafter, having just finished setting up the tent for the evening. Not even the intrepid cooks looked terribly thrilled by their creation. 

“I think we might have overcooked it a little,” Prompto muttered as he poked the lump of wobbly not-quite-meat-anymore with his fork. 

Gladio snorted. “You think?” 

Noctis screwed up his face and diligently took a bite. He quickly gagged and spat it back out. “Eugh. Damnit. Sorry, Specs…” 

Ignis graced his prince with a long-suffering sigh and carefully set his plate aside. There was still more than enough time to make something better. He’d cooked with worse fevers than this before; it should be well within the realm of possibility to at least produce something  _ edible. _

Gladio’s hand fell on his shoulder before he could lever himself out of his camp chair, gently pushing him back down. “I got it. Least I can do is teach ‘em how to make a proper cup noodle.” 

“Yes, that sounds far more nutritious,” Ignis replied dryly, though he didn’t have the strength to truly protest. He sighed again and sat back in his chair, adjusting his glasses. “And do remind Noct that vegetables will not in fact kill him.” 

Gladiolus chuckled, the sound vibrating through the palm of his hand. “Sure thing, Iggy.” 


End file.
